MN: And get a load of our new ring announcer!
[Cut to the ring, where we see... Empire Girl Tiffany, now wearing a smart business suit and glasses.]
DT: It seems Empire Girl Tiffany has offered her services as ring announcer in Tony Fatora's absence.
DM: Don't sell her short, Dave. She's the same Tiff Marais from MCW who used to run the backstage interviews. She knows her stuff.
MN: And she's hot too!
[Cut back to ringside.]
DT: Well, ladies and gentlemen, the time is near for some more tag team action, with the titles on the line!
MN: Hey, has anyone heard from my future wife?
DT: I'm pretty sure that if Troy heard you calling her your future wife, she'd rip your juggular right from your throat.
MN: Like Bruce Lee? Sweet!
DM: I don't think our bird-brained friend quite knows the ramifications of his words sometimes.
DT: Quite right. But again, I don't know if Christian Sands knows the ramifications of the match he was booked for this week.
DM: Christian will be fine, he always is when his back is against the wall...or against the bed, if you know what I'm sayin. Heh.
DT: Let's just move away from the sexual innuendos for a second and talk about some cold facts here. No one has seen Lindsay Troy since Wrestleverse I from Denver. There's been so much speculation as to where she's been and so many rumors floating around.
MN: Oh yeah? Like what.
DT: One rumor is that Craig Miles...
MN: THOU SHALT NOT NAME THAT NAME ON EPW PROGRAMMING!
DT: You're such a twit. Anyway, it's rumored that the Cocky-one made good on a promise to get to Troy in whatever fed she stepped foot in after opposing him in fWo. It's also been rumored that she might have been kidnapped, perhaps by Melton.
DM: Do you really think Melton would be that stupid? Or desperate?
MN: Why I oughta...
DT: Cool it Neely. All these are just rumors, although it is a coincidence that Melton hasn't been seen or heard from since the pay-per-view either. But all that is just speculation.
DM: I hope it didn't come to the two of them running off and getting married. Christian would be devastated.
MN: As would I...
DT: Let's just talk about some facts now, shall we? Like I said, no one's seen her since Wrestleverse I. No one's been in contact with her. I talked to Christian earlier tonight, he hasn't heard from her and Dan Ryan wasn't available for comment.
DM: Our thoughts go out to Lindsay Troy, wherever she may be right now.
MN: COME BACK TO US, TROY! DON'T LET CHRISTIAN GO AT IT ALONE!
DT: Neely...
DM: ...you're an idiot.
[Without any indication or warning, "Stay In Shadow" by Finger Eleven slams over the PA system.]
MN: What the hell?
DM: Now what's this about?
[Erik Black appears from the entrance and makes his way down to the ring, receiving the usual Crimson Calling crowd reaction. He pays them no mind as he comes down the ramp.]
DT: It's Erik Black! What is he doing here?
DM: Oop, better watch your chair, Mike!
MN: You can bet I am, this very minute!
[Black comes around the ring, toward the commentary table. He takes an unused chair from nearby and takes a seat next to Mike at the table, donning his own headset.]
DT: Well it... it seems as though Erik Black has come to join us at commentary.
DM: What a pleasant surprise...
EB: Hey, guys...
MN: Uhh... howdy-doo, Mr. Black! You aren't here to take my chair again, are you?
EB: Nah, that's okay, Mike... I found one already.
DT: Well, while you're here, I think you should be congratulated for your victory earlier tonight against the Dark Carnival...
EB: Hey, thanks Dave, but let's not get into that now. We have a match to get to, don't we?
DT: That's very true... I think the Second Coming are ready to arrive.
["The Final Countdown" by Europe. As the opening chords of "The Final Countdown" play, the arena goes black. As the introduction of the song continues, the words "A New Time Has Come" flash on the big screen above the ramp. As the words "The Final Countdown" are heard for the first time, an elaborate display of fireworks and lights signal the entrance of Matt Johansson and Bryan Storms. They walk swiftly past the tables and chair surrounding the ring, before sliding simultaneously under the bottom rope to pose on opposite turnbuckles, taunting the crowd.]
TIFFANY MARAIS: Introducing first, at a combined weight of four hundred and seventy pounds... "The Perfect Ten" Matt Johansson, "The New Icon" Bryan Storms.... your new #1 Contenders to the EEEEEEEEPW WORLD Tag Team Championships... SECOOOOOOOOOOND... COOOOOOOOOOMIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!!!!!!!
EB: I think someone should let these guys know their song is lame...
DT: Yes... as we all well know, it was the Crimson Calling that unfortunately took a loss last week at Aggression to the Second Coming, after Ivan Dalkichev's leg had apparently sustained an injury.
DM: How is Ivan doing, Erik?
EB: Not bad... he merely stretched it in a wrong way during that match. Had I not broken things up at the time I did, it would have very likely been broken. So, we took a loss... I'm not happy about it, but it was something that had to be done. Right now, Ivan is recovering, and we're poised to bounce back in the tag title scene...
["The Final Countdown" segues into "Heartbreaker" by Led Zeppelin.]
MN: I can imagine it must have been heart-breaking to have been Tag Team champions one moment, and being beaten by the Second Coming the next.
EB: Hold the phone here, Mike... the Crimson Calling was never BEATEN by the Second Coming.
["Heartbreaker" continues, but Lindsay Troy doesn't appear from the back. The music quietly cuts off and "Dark Machine" by Paul Oakenfold replaces it. Christian Sands appears from the curtains alone, shaking his head, before making his way to the ring. He intensely glares at Johannson and Storms as he nears the apron.]
DT: Here comes Christian Sands, alone... carrying both belts.
EB: We merely faced a set-back. That doesn't mean the Second Coming is better than us-they got LUCKY...
DM: Sands looks psyched... he's ready to compete, even if it means by himself.
EB: It pisses me off, Mike... we busted our ASSES to be what we are today! We decimated all competition that came before us, and we EARNED those belts! And can you believe it? At the end of one match, Ivan screws up his leg on a flawed fall to the outside, and we're forced to be put on the bench...
DT: Sands is in the ring, and now this match is about to get underway...
EB: Bryan Storms seems to think that it's a coincidence that we left the second they signed on. Really, is an injury that coincidental? I'll tell you what a coincidence is... it's when you return to the ring, ready to get down to some serious destruction, and the SAME injury resurfaces halfway through the match, and royally screws over your game plan! THAT'S a coincidence!
MN: Uh huh...
DM: (get this guy some Ritalin, Dave...)
DT: It looks like Bryan Storms will be the one starting things off. The bell rings, and here we go! Sands and Storms circling each other in the ring...
EB: But do you know what REALLY pisses me off?
MN: Uhh...
DM: Ahem... Sands and Storms lock up! Sands quickly goes behind and puts Bryan Storms into a hammerlock... Storms quickly uses the elbow and goes to the reversal! Storms, preparing for a GERMAN SUPLEX-AND SANDS lands on his feet...
DT: Storms is PUT DOWN with a forearm to the face by Sands!
EB: Now that we've taken this loss, the Second Coming have done nothing but BRAG about it!
MN: Uh, Mr. Black? We're trying to call a match.
EB: Don't interrupt me, damn it!
DM (sarcastically): Don't interrupt, Mike, he's on a roll...
DT: Storms coming back to his feet, and locks up with Sands again...
EB: What was it Bryan Storms said about us? Our combined IQ doesn't amount to a jar of peanut butter, and the non-chunky kind?
MN: Something to those lines, yes.
DT: Sands overpowering, moves Storms into the corner...
EB: It's embarrassing, to take that kind of loss to a pair of untalented HACKS like the Second Coming, who rely only on the tough talk and self-absorbed egos to get them through week to week!
DT: KNIFE-EDGE CHOP ACROSS THE CHEST...
MN: WHOOOO!!
EB: It's not about how good you think you are... it's about how good you ARE, period! Like the Crimson Calling! And now we've got THESE two morons walking around, thinking they're hot sh...
DT: FAMILY SHOW!!!
EB: ...when all that happened was as simple stroke of bad luck in our direction!
DM: Another knife-edge chop.
MN: WHOOOO!!!
EB: I'm telling you here and now, Mike... NOTHING is finished between the Crimson Calling and the Second Coming...
MN: ...well, by the way you speak, that is certainly obvious. The Second Coming right now, however, seem to have their hands full with Christian Sands, who takes Bryan Storms by the arm, and whips him HARD into the other corner!
DM: Don't speak too soon, Mike. It's still very early in this match.
EB: If Christian Sands is half as good as he THINKS he is, he should have no problem handling these two...
DT: Sands follows, and delivers a KNEE to the gut... and follows through with a HIPTOSS to put Bryan Storms to the ground!
DM: Storms is quickly back onto his feet, and Sands PUTS HIM DOWN with a painful-looking jawbreaker!
EB: The only way to shut that mouth is by force...
MN: Christian Sands makes the cover...
One...
Two...
No! Easy kickout for Bryan Storms...
DM: Christian Sands seems to be doing pretty well on his own, without the aid of Lindsay Troy...
MN: We'll see how long he holds out on his own after a while...
DT: Sands now has Bryan Storms back on his feet, and puts him into a headlock... Storms refuses to stay grounded to the mat, and goes into Sands' side with a series of elbows! Bryan Storms breaks free and hits the ropes...
DM: NO!! Put down with a DESTRUCTIVE clothesline!
DT: That nearly-
MN: Took his head off, right?
DT: Well... yeah.
MN: You know... maybe we should come up with a new slogan for the "nearly decapitating clothesline." What do you guys think?
DT: I like tradition myself...
DM: Sands, meanwhile, going for a Fujiwara Armbar...
EB: You guys already have a bevy of lines to use. Just mix it up a bit...
MN: Yeah, next time someone gets hit with a clothesline, we'll say, "That nearly turned him inside out!" or "That knocked him into next Sunday!"
DM: Whatever works... let's just call the match.
DT: Storms is inching closer to the ropes... and he has a firm grip on the bottom rope! The ref is telling Sands to break the hold!
DM: Sands breaks and-WHOA! Looks like he's giving the ref a piece of his mind!
MN: Wait a sec, while Christian argues with the ref, here comes Bryan Storms crawling to Matt Johansson! The tag is made!
DT: Johansson is coming in fresh and ready to tumble! Sands brushes by the ref and the two meet toe to toe in the middle of the ring!
DM: Sands and Johansson are exchanging blows... and it looks like Matt Johansson may be coming out on top on this one!
EB: You've got to be kidding me...
MN: Johansson is beating Sands up against the ropes... whips him to the other side of the ring... Sands returns goes for a CLOTHESLINE-
DT: DUCKED by Matt Johansson!! Johansson slips in behind-BLASTS Christian Sands into the mat with a Reverse DDT!!
MN: There's a quick cover...
One!
NO!! Not even a two count...
DM: Christian Sands isn't quite down and out at this point.
EB: Good to know.
DT: Matt Johansson quickly gets Christian Sands to his feet... hooks him into a standing leg-scissor headlock! Going for a pile-NO! Sands with a back body drop!
DM: Johansson quickly bolts to his feet, and Sands charges him head on! Sands bullies him into the corner and starts laying his fists into his sides! Johansson, meanwhile, is focused on rabbit punching Christian Sands in the back of the head!
MN: Mighty fine brawlin' we're seeing here, gentlemen...
DT: Johansson, finally, with a sunset FLIP out of the corner, ROLLS UP SANDS FOR THE PIN!!
ONE...
TWO...
NAW!! Christian Sands with the kickout...
DM: And Johansson wasting no time in getting the fresh man back in the ring.
DT: Johansson quickly tags in Storms...Bryan quickly yanks Sands to his feet and whips him across the ropes, Sands rebounds and is taken down to the mat with a hard lariat to the windpipe. Storms running to the corner now. He runs up the ropes and LEAPS through the air, connecting with a moonsault! The cover!
ONE...
TWO...
THRRRRRRRRRRRRRRNO!!!
MN: Quickness is starting to prevail. They're wearing Sands out.
DT: Storms muscles Sands to his feet, measures him, and connects with a right hand. Sands staggers back, and Storms connects with another right. He tries for a third, but Sands blocks! Another try, another block...
DM: ...and Storms with a blatant thumb to the eye!
EB: It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye, then it's just fun you can't see.
MN: Ha! That's a good one.
DT: Good one? That was awful!
EB: Hey, I wasn't guaranteeing in-depth analysis with my presence here. You guys'll have to take what you can get.
DM (muttering): Unfortunately...
EB: What was that?
DM: Nothin man. Nothin at all.
DT: Storms with a Side-Russian legsweep...he's setting Sands up for a Sharpshooter!
DM: He's struggling. Christian's fighting it!
MB: Aw monkey...
DT: Sharpshooter's on! Storms has it locked in tight, and Christian's in a world of pain. He's crying out, but he's not giving up!
DM: He's not that far from the ropes.
MB: GO GO GADGET ARMS!
DT: He's reaching Dean. He can't quite get there. The ref is on the mat; he's asking Christian the one question he doesn't want to hear. Sands veheminently refusing to submit. He's reaching again, trying to crawl over on his elbows....but Storms brings him further into the center of the ring.
DM: Christian's fading. The referee's pleading with him, but the pain may just be too much.
DT: Sands knew what he was getting into coming into this match, and to say his performance was anything short of valiant would be selling him short. But Storms and Johansson were hungry, no doubt about it.
EB: Getting all philosophical on us, Thomas?
DT: Oh shut it.
MN: Hey he was just asking a question.
DT: The referee's checking Sands one more time, Christian's still trying to muster up whatever energy he's got left to make one last grab for the ropes.
DM: Thomas...look...
[CUT-TO: The entryway, where the curtains part in a billowing fury, and Lindsay Troy, dressed in streetclothes. comes running out at full-speed from the back. The crowd's on it's feet, cheering.]
DT: IT'S TROY! SHE'S BACK!
MN: MY WIFEY HAS RETURNED!
DM: Hang on Sands, help's coming.
DT: Troy leaps up onto the apron, catapults herself onto the top-rope...MOONSAULT into a DDT! Storms didn't know what hit him! The referee can't believe his eyes! I don't even know if Sands knows what's going on. But Johansson does! He charges into the ring...clothesline by Troy! She's daring him to get back up. Johansson to his feet, tries a clothesline...Troy ducks under, thrust kick to the Adam's apple! Johansson's down! Storms is showing movement! The crowd's cheering for Troy for the first time since May! Sands is on all fours, and the referee is telling Troy that she's not the legal person! He's forcing her back to the corner, Sands is using the ropes to get back to his feet.
DM: Troy just said something to the referee. He's backing off her. She's walking over to Sands, and helps him the rest of the way up!
EB: He looks like he's seen a ghost.
MN: Wouldn't you be in a state of shock if you saw someone that smoking hott standing in front of you?
DM: Only you wouldn't be able to maintain your composure.
MN: Don't put words in my mouth, Matthews.
DT: Troy's extending her hand. Sands isn't moving, he's just looking at her...looking at her hand...then back into her eyes.
EB: It's not a rocket science decision, buddy.
DM: Shake her hand, Christian.
DT: Sands doesn't know what to make of this, of Troy's reemergence from who knows where...but Storms and Johansson are back up. Both charge at Troy and Sands, they're caught unawar...no! They pulled the bottom rope down! Second Coming hit hard on the outside. Troy's smirking at the damage, and Sands just grabbed her arm. He's forcing her to look at him...
...and he sticks his hand out! Troy takes it, the tag champs have officially reunited!
EB: This is so freaking touching...
MN: I know...isn't it?
EB: I was being facetious.
DT: The moment isn't going to last long. Troy's slipping between the ropes, she's on the apron measuring Johansson. He gets to his feet first. Troy jumps...front-flip bulldog! Matt's down. Bryan's pulling himself up with the aid of the guardrail. Troy's got him by the back of the head and is rolling him back into the ring. Storms and Sands, the legal men once again. Sands is working over Storms' with hard boots to his neck and back. Troy continues to work over Johansson on the outside. Sands picks Storms up...Sandman's Clutch! He's got it locked in!
DM: This could be all she wrote right here...
MN: Johansson's trying to get back in the ring, but Troy's holding him at bay.
DT: Storms has nowhere to go. His partner's preoccupied and he's in the center of the ring and what seems like miles away from the ropes. He's elbowing Sands, trying to get the hold released...Sands locks it in tighter! Storms...taps! It's over!
TIFFANY MARAIS: Ladies and Gentlemen, the winners of this match, and STILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL EPW TAG TEAM CHAMPIONS, LINDSAY TROY AND CHRISTIAN SANDS!!!
EB: I told ya before, boys. Storms is a PUNK.
DM: Hey cool it, Black. He let it all hang out in there.
EB: In the end, it's the win that matters, Matthews. You're an ex-wrestler, you should know that.
DM: And I also know that effort shouldn't go unnoticed either, Erik.
DT: While the two of them bicker, the referee's raising Sands' and Troy's hands and handing them the tag belts. Sands stops him, takes Troy's half of the belts, straps it around her waist, and raises her hand in the air once more!
EB: Yeah? I'll show you something that shouldn't go unnoticed either. Mike... it’s time for you to move over.
MN: ...uh, why?
EB: Because I want your chair.
MN: Aw, come on, man! Use your own...
EB: No fuss, Mike. Move over or, be MOVED over!
MN: Ah, geez...
[Neely comes to his feet and steps aside as Erik discards his own seat for that used by the color commentator. Black throws down the headset as he folds the chair up, eyes focused on the ring... particularly the two men standing there.]
DT: Erik Black has a chair, and the Second Coming are still in the ring!
DM: I smell where this is going...
[Mike, meanwhile, takes Erik’s discarded seat to sit down in.]
MN: Man, why does it always have to be MY chair?
DT: Erik Black charging the ring, and he slides in behind Bryan Storms and Matt Johansson!
DM: Turn around, guys!
DT: Storms turns around... and gets CLOCKED in the face from the chair! AND JOHANSSON FOLLOWS!!
MN: Double KO, courtesy of the agile half of the Crimson Calling...
DM: Erik Black has just single-handedly laid out the Second Coming!
DT: It seems that when he said there that things weren’t finished between the Calling and the Coming... he really meant it. And whether Bryan Storms or Matt Johansson care or not, I think Black is taking matters into his own hands...
MN: Looks like he’s calling for a mic.
[He’s handed one by a member of the ring crew. Black comes back to the middle of the ring, looking over his fallen foes.]
EB: What up, guys?
[He delivers a boot to the shoulder of Matt Johansson as he tries to get to his feet, putting him to the mat again.]
EB: You guys got lucky last week when Ivan’s knee went out... but that’s to be expected from a man so heavy. Don’t think that you have one up on us, and don’t even DREAM of believing matters are finished between us.
[He turns to Bryan Storms, lying prone on the mat.]
EB: ...Bryan, right?
[He delivers a swift field-goal punt to the side of Storms’ face, forcing him to roll over on the mat.]
EB: You’re the brilliant comedian who came up with the peanut-butter joke, am I right? Cute...
[Another swift kick across the face, gaining a painful reaction from the crowd.]
EB: Because you’re the guy who likes to run his mouth, I’m calling you out. Next week, you and I are going at it... one on one. And when I’m done destroying you in the middle of the ring, maybe we can settle our differences in tag team situations...
[He starts to the ropes to make his exit. As he goes, he notices Matt Johansson trying to come off the mat again. He kicks him down a second time.]
EB: Until then, enjoy your final moments with your bed buddy here... cause when you and I go toe to toe, Bryan... I’m going to eat... YOUR... FACE!!
[Erik chucks the mic over his shoulder as he hops the ropes and walks back up the ramp, his face contorted with anger. “Stay In Shadow” begins to thump over the PA system as he departs.]
DT: You heard it here, folks! Erik Black has called out Bryan Storms to face off one on one at Aggression!
DM: The Second Coming, apparently, won’t find shrugging off the Crimson Calling to be all that easy...
DT: Well, they WERE former tag champions for a reason...
MN: ...that guy, Erik, reminds me of that chicken hawk in Looney Toons, you know?
DT: What’s that?
MN: He’s like, the short, angry guy whose always picking a fight.
DM: Must be Irish like you, Mike.
MN: Hey, ya can’t mess with us Irish guys!
DT: Well, whatever... we’ve seen a lot here tonight. Lindsay Troy has returned from her disappearance, and Erik Black has issued a challenge to Bryan Storms of the Second Coming. Stay tuned, we have more action on the way...
[Cut to a commercial for Castro GTX, the finest in Cuban-manufactured motor oil.]